


Accidents Can Be Good (Septiplier)

by Lord_Mushroom_Kat



Category: Septiplier - Fandom, jacksepticeye - Fandom, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Blame my brain, How Do I Tag, I Don't Even Know, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I had a dream okay?, M/M, My First Fanfic, Please Don't Hate Me, Septiplier AWAY!, Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-12
Updated: 2016-09-25
Packaged: 2018-08-14 14:32:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8017657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lord_Mushroom_Kat/pseuds/Lord_Mushroom_Kat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack is moving to America because he doesn't want to live so far away from all his friends. He decides to move to LA because Mark is his closest friend. Mark offers him a room at his house. So now Jack is going to be his roommate. Mark is a sweet special snowflakes who doesn't know how to be honest with himself. He likes/loves Jack but it hasn't occurred to him yet. Meanwhile Jack is aware of his own feelings for Mark and has resolved to hide them forever. </p>
<p>A/N: It's gonna start mid-story and then flashback to the actual start of the timeline and continue until the end. Blame my brain. I thought this up when I woke up this morning. And I waited until now to write this. I've never written a fanfic before. Please be nice. I changed the title. Please comment if you have y'know, comments.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. This Wasn't Supposed to Happen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edit: Fixed the paragraphing. To be easier to read.

**(Jack)**

This wasn't supposed to happen.

The thought echos through my mind as my body seems to move on it's own.

My lips dance on his as though participating in some form of ball that I didn't know about.

My hands caress his skin unapologetically, running over his arms, torso, and ever-so-fluffy red and black hair.

None of these actions are a conscious choice formed in my mind as every part of my brain is shouting to stop, to pull away now, in hopes of repairing the damage.

Despite my insistence, however, my lips, ever fervent, continue their passionate tango with his.

He also seems to be responding back in what I can only assume is a spur of the moment reciprocation of passion.

I'm sure when we eventually pull away in favor of oxygen, the spell over him will end and I will be faced with a very awkward situation.

As soon as I get a hold of myself, I should probably run, but I don't know when I'll get to do this again.

Probably never. So, just maybe I can enjoy myself now and blame it on being caught up in the moment later.

Because **god** do I love this feeling.

In favor of living in the present, I pour myself into this marvelous feeling.

My mind is suddenly sharp and in control of my movements.

I hug him tight to me and enjoy the feeling of him hugging back as I kiss him all the more impassioned.

I can feel a fluttering in my stomach. I love the way he feels against my fingers as they rush over his back up to his head.

I can feel how flushed my face is. I feel myself needing oxygen and try to kiss him harder to not waste these precious few moments before I'll have to own up to this.

I don't get to, though. He pulls away.

Eyes open. Breathing starts. His eyes, a gorgeous chocolate brown, stare back at me as I take in his appearance.

His hair is floofed up and sticking up everywhere, his face probably as flushed as mine, his body, don't get me started, is as attractive as always.

He says nothing. He just stares, mouth slightly agape. I can feel myself becoming anxious. Shit. How am I going to get out of this one?

This wasn't supposed to happen.

* * *

 

**(Earlier: Mark)**

Jack is moving to America.

I swear this is the best news I've had in a while.

He said he was going to move to LA, so I offered him one of my guest rooms. My best friend is going to  be my roommate, how cool is that?

I'm trying to get the house ready. As I arrange the pieces of the larger of the two guest rooms to suit the stuff I know he's bringing, I find that I'm quite content with my work.

The walls are now painted a calm green color that I think he'll like. I don't know why I did it, but I feel as though I had to. I do want him to like it here.

There's a fluttering in my stomach much like a swarm of butterflies that I'd rather ignore as I continue to think about him living here.

We can do collabs and goof around all day. I get to see those crystal blue eyes in person every day.

I feel my heart swell thinking of how much fun we'll have together and remind myself that I really need to watch those thoughts of mine.

I know he's objectively adorable but thinking about it too much will only bring trouble.

I chuckle quietly and move on to go sit on the couch in my living room, confident that my work in his room is complete.

I try to rest on the couch, but the nerves and excitement cause me to tap my foot on the floor impatiently.

I decide to stand up in favor of doing something so as not to spontaneously combust.

I find myself walking towards the kitchen.

Cookies. Yeah. Cookies are a good idea. He likes cookies.

I pull out a cookbook, flipping through dozens of cookie recipes, becoming impatient I choose one quickly and set out to make it happen.

Ingredients are taken out, measured, and mixed. As I work I let my mind wander.

Never a good idea.

It wanders to how long I've known Jack, to my initial impression of the adorable Irishman. Careful now, Mark.

 

**(Now for a random change to third-person. Still Mark.)**

He shelves that dangerous description and moves to how much fun it is to tease the fans with Jack, although sometimes he wonders whether it's the fans he's teasing or himself.

Whoa there, careful now!

Where did that thought even come from?

He zones back into what he's doing to realize that he's already put the cookies in the oven and set the timer.

It dawns on him that he now has to wait until the cookies are done baking.

Great, now what?

He goes back to his couch, pulling out his cell phone. He settles on flipping through social media. A very dangerous idea.

He finds many kind and nice comments and then runs into the comments on the video he made with Jack over video call about Jack's move to LA.

The septiplier fans have gone crazy in the comments.

Many of them insisting that if the move isn't for romantic purposes, then he and Jack will almost certainly fall madly in love while he's there. He shakes his head and chuckles.

That'll never happen, both of them have made it quite clear that they have no romantic interest in the other.

He can't help but wonder though... Nope, we're not **even** going there!

He moves on to the responses to his crazed shipping fans' comments.

He frowns as he reads many rude comments "defending him". Ah, the septiplier haters.

They are always the ones telling the shippers that they're doing something wrong.

The ones who insist that it bother him that these people ship him.

Don't get him wrong, he doesn't love Jack and the septiplier shippers are seeing something that's not there, but it doesn't bother him.

He finds it amusing and their passion for it rather inspiring.

The amount of really good fanart dedicated to the supposed relationship between him and Jack is honestly touching.

He shakes his head at the comments stating the stupidity of the shippers.

He essentially gave the shippers the go-ahead to ship it the moment they first brought it up in a video.

Why do so many people insist on putting them down for it?

Whatever.

He moves on to the next few comments and sees even more of what he doesn't want to.

People saying septiplier is wrong because they're both male.

God, does that make him uncomfortable.

Just because he's not gay doesn't mean other people can't be.

It doesn't even bother him to be shipped with another male. He's honestly glad it was Jack, who is surprisingly cool about it, taking their flirting to tease the fans in stride.

He couldn't have chosen a better person to be paired with. He catches himself, contemplating the implications of that statement.

He shrugs it off, deciding to move on to slightly less troublesome subjects.

He flips away from the video, opting for another social media site. He ends up staring at endless quantities of septiplier fanart.

He tries to flip through them and only feel appreciation for the artist's hard work but his stupid heart betrays him.

He feels blood rush to his face as, for the first time in a long while, he allows himself to seriously entertain the idea of septiplier.

He knows it's dangerous, but he's getting tired of not letting himself think about it.

What's the worst that could happen? 


	2. What's the Worst that Could Happen?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, we're making our way slowly towards where we started. I'll get there soon. Mark let's himself think about Jack. Have fun with that, Mark. Please give feedback
> 
> Edit: Fixed paragraphing.

**(Mark)**

He must be the craziest man alive.

This is a horrible idea.

But he's getting tired of shoving this aside. He sighs, allowing himself to think about Jack.

He had to admit that if he was being completely honest with himself, he thinks Jack has the most adorable, endearing, _alluring_ personality.

Jack and he do have a very special relationship, balanced expertly on the line between platonic and romantic affection.

As of now, their relationship is purely platonic, but he would have to admit some day that flirting with Jack is immense fun.

The way they played off of each other right from the beginning still amazed him. Their dynamic is very special.

Having previously looked back at some of his videos with Jack, he could completely see what the shippers saw in them.

He allows himself to delve deeper into this thought. He has read quite a few fanfictions of him and Jack together.

Believe him, as much as he tries, many of them have made him experience extreme embarrassment.

He takes a second to consider how many of them have described Jack through "his" eyes.

He takes another second to consider how he actually would describe Jack.

He thinks of his adorable but still admittedly attractive, lean build.

He thinks of his bright green hair that can catch an eye from across the room.

He pauses at his eyes, bright and blue, practically piercing, _those_ could catch an eye from space.

His eyes almost glitter when he speaks. Oh god.

He stops himself, suddenly realizing that this was a terrible idea, but knowing he can't go back from here.

He continues.

Jack's voice, bright and energetic, full of as much energy and youthful spirit as the man himself, with the slight beautiful Irish lilt.

He smiles to himself. Then stops to consider the implications of all his musings. He swears internally.

He can't stop the blood clearly splattered across his face, as he wallows in his embarrassment, the timer for the cookies goes off.

He remembers what he was doing and stands up to get the cookies out.

After the cookies are checked on and he's assured that they're done, he removes them, letting them cool a bit before placing them on a cooling rack.

He sneaks a few, and even though his mouth burns, he silently revels in his baking prowess.

He suns himself in the small victory of being apt at baking and then nurses his poor burnt tongue.

His mind returns to the adorable green-haired Irishman as he walks to his couch.

He checks the time. Way too early. Jack won't arrive until much later.

He has to pick his dear Jackaboy up at the airport in a few hours. "Dear"? Oh god.

He goes back through his thought process. His thought wander to his less than platonic description of Jack. He wonders what to think about it.

He realizes that it really does seem like he's crushing on the adorkable Irishman.

He wallows in shame a bit before deciding that such a revelation seems like a reasonable assumption. He considers this.

He knows he's not gay. Maybe bi? No, he doesn't feel attracted to other men. Is he attracted to Jack?

Images of Jack being both adorable and incredibly alluring flash through his mind. His face flushes, that'd be a yes then.

Maybe he just loves Jack then? Love? Okay, that seems like a leap. They are very close, but love is a stretch.

But Jack is still the only male he feels attracted to.

He then considers a thought "What am I supposed to do with this knowledge?".

He remembers that Jack was soon to move into his house with him.

And Jack was still his best friend.

A brief panic flashes through his mind as he considers how he's going to pull off being Jack's best friend when the annoyingly endearing Irishman had captured his heart.

After a deep breath, he assures himself that their dynamic is so strong that they'll fall into it easily, secret feelings or not.

As he's suddenly hit with a wave exhaustion he decides that he needs a nap.

He doesn't bother dragging himself upstairs and simply sets an alarm on his phone and passes out on his couch.

His dreams are filled with memories of adorable green-haired Irishmen.

* * *

**(Jack)**

Jack sits in his seat on the airplane on his way to America, to LA, to Mark. He blushes lightly at this.

Mark was the best friend any guy could ask for.

He was both calm, kind, and considerate and fun-loving, ridiculous, and goofy. The only problem with him was that he was incredibly attractive.

He knew how to flirt with Jack and push his buttons, over time, Jack had learned how to effectively banter right back without getting too defensive.

It was very hard not to take the gorgeous man's flirting to heart. Getting his hopes up was definitely not what he needed, now or ever.

He used to respect Mark so much, and he felt as though knowing the man personally was going to be his downfall. He was just a fan once.

Then he got the incredible fortune of actually getting to work with him. At first he remained a fanboy.

Over time, as he got to know Mark and their dynamic solidified, he found himself falling for the man's laugh and voice and eyes and smile and well, everything.

He didn't _really_ fall until a short while ago.

He had then decided that all the opportunities, all of his friends, and most importantly, Mark, lived in America.

He had gone through a lot of trouble to permanently move here. He opted for LA because Mark was there.

Upon hearing this, Mark had offered a room in his house. Jack had been torn between jumping at the chance and being hesitant.

Mark had insisted that it made sense, since it would mean Jack wouldn't have to deal with living arrangements.

Jack had been incredibly grateful and hoped that he could keep his crush at bay and not screw things up.

If Jack had to deal with being Mark's best friend for the rest of his life, so be it. It failed to be important what he felt.

He attempted to enjoy his plane ride over, but his excitement and nervousness caused him to feel impatient.

The airport felt forever away. He busied himself with going through a mental checklist of everything he had brought.

All his recording equipment was being transported as gently as required and his baggage was stored in the cargo hold.

He had figured out the arrangements of moving and chores and whatnot a while ago.

He had explained to Mark what things he stored in his room and Mark had graciously agreed to get what he could set up beforehand.

Mark had listened attentively when he explained as best he could his recording setup and they had made plans on how to set up both of their stuff in the space they had.

Jack was quite surprised with how accommodating Mark was being.

That was Mark, though. Jack felt himself grinning at the thought of sharing a living space with Mark.

Even if it was just as friends, Jack intended to thoroughly enjoy every extra second he got to spend with Mark.

They had done a video together before he left explaining to the fans that Jack was to be moving in with Mark.

Jack had never seen the septiplier fandom explode so much.

Many comments poured in and he couldn't help but notice how many fans were convinced that he was moving in with Mark for romantic reasons.

They weren't completely wrong, part of the reason Jack was moving was because he wanted to be closer to Mark.

But he had no intention of "wooing" Mark. He was content to take it to the grave.

Jack glanced at the clock and noticed that soon enough it would be time to get off at the airport.

Of course, it wasn't _really_ that soon, in like half an hour, but he had been in that plane for a very long time.

He resolved to steady his fast-beating heart and shove his feelings for the good-looking Korean-American man gracing his mind deep down where they belonged.

He did not need those anywhere near the surface if he was going to pull off seeing Mark at the airport.

 


	3. Idiots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark goes to the airport to meet Jack. Things are a little awkward, but everything is alright. For now.
> 
> A/N: Sorry that I haven't been writing, guys, being a good high school student requires more of my time then I'd like, and I'm only just forcing myself to get this done. I've REALLY been wanting to continue this. It's been driving me crazy!.....er 
> 
> PS: I will have swearing in this. Jack is Irish, both of them are adults, they swear sometimes, it happens.  
> PPS: Let it be known that I know nothing of the workings of airports, seeing as I have never flown in my life. So yeah, sorry about that. If I said anything in that regard that made no sense, point it out, I'll probably fix it.

**(Mark)**

_Images of Pax from a few years ago flash before my eyes. Joking, kidding around, a serious question turned to joke. How can one idiot say "No" so many times?_

_Jack had been kidding around, surely. He doesn't feel that way about me. No way. I had only recently unearthed my feelings, and there was no way Jack felt the same, especially not for that long..._

Bee-beep. Bee-beep. Bee-beep. 

_Huh? What?_

Mark's eyes open for a second. Bright lights. They close then open again. He looks around for a bit again.

Bee-beep. Bee-beep. Bee-beep.

_Wait what's going on?_

He tries to move around a bit, feels the sensation of falling, and then he feels the floor beneath him.

_Ugh... Floor. Why am I on the- Oh. Couch, yes, that explains it._

 

Bee-beep. Bee-beep. Bee-beep.

_Why is there an alarm? Oh yeah, I need to go get Jack._

Bee-beep. Bee-beep. Bee-

He finds his phone and turns off the alarm. He then gets up and hurries to get ready to meet Jackaboy at the airport.

He makes sure his hair doesn't look like he just took a nap on it and proceeds to pull on shoes and rush out the door with cell phone and keys in hand. He locks the door then hurries to his car and begins driving. The drive doesn't take too long and he did give himself plenty of leeway time, but he is still jittery and longing to see his green-haired Irish apple of his eye. He smiles as his face flushes and butterflies dance in his stomach. He wishes he was better at containing it, but he's only just realized his feelings, so excuse him if he is a little unpracticed in the art of hiding it. The slight panic returns as he wonders how he's going to keep it in. He sighs.

_I have known Jack for a very long time and I'm very familiar with how I'm supposed to act around him. Everything is going to be fine. Besides, it might make flirting with him more fun if I feel this way. I will need to be more careful, though._

 

Mark pulled into the airport parking lot, attempting to find a spot that wasn't full, the drive over had been uneventful, but Mark's mind was still aflutter with thoughts.

After circling around for a bit and finding an appropriate space, he pulled in and set about heading into the pickup area where he would most likely locate Jack.

It was unsurprising to him to realize that he was, in fact, early and that Jack's plane hadn't pulled in yet. So he found a place to sit and wait while he checked his phone.

* * *

 

**(Jack)**

_How much longer is this plane ride again? Oh yeah, a couple minutes. But it felt like it was taking fucking forever!_

 

Jack had had to remain annoyingly quiet this entire exhausting plane ride and he was just about ready to be done with it... an hour ago. He supposed it was the price to pay for going to live with Mark.

_No, don't think his name. The name is dangerous to think when you're alone. Think about something else, Sean. THINK. ABOUT. SOMETHING. ELSE._

To no avail, the thought was there, the name had already been presented to his bored mind. He really didn't know _how_   he was going to pull this off. It had seemed so easy in the planning phase. What if he screwed everything up by taking their flirting too far or-

_Breath, Sean, you know Mark is worth all of this._

The plane was almost there and Jack took a breath as he decided to just be relaxed for the remainder of his trip. He intended to enjoy the last of his time in the fairly comfy seat before he needed to use his overly stiff legs to somehow stand up and walk off the plane.

He began to gather up his carry-ons into some semblance of an organized fashion so as to make the actual dismounting part of his adventure less difficult. After he was satisfied, he settled in for the remainder of his time on the plane, once more going through all of the stuff he had needed to accomplish once off of the plane including the procuring of his bags and so-on and so-forth. 

* * *

 

**(Both, kind of)**

The plane landed in due time and when it did, one Sean William McLoughlin was ready to attempt to stand up. His legs were, as anticipated, very stiff, but he managed and soon, with his carry-ons in tow, he exited the plane and went about finding his luggage. All while furiously attempting to avoid the subject of a certain red-and-black haired Asian-American in his mind.

Once his bags were located and collected, he went to head out and find Mark. It was harder than it would have been had he and Mark been of larger height, but the red-topped hair gave him away and, as usual, Jack had spotted him fairly quickly. By this point Mark was already off of his phone and searching for Jack, so it was approximately the same that they had caught each others eyes from across the room.

Jack, long familiar with the insistent fluttering in his stomach upon first sight of Mark, easily ignored it and proceeded across the room the where he had seen the fire-red locks. Mark, on the other hand, was far less lucky and had been caught completely off-guard at the sight of the bright green hair, and even more importantly, the bluest of blue eyes. 

Jack, unaware of his poor Markimoo's internal predicament, rushed across the room as fast as the confusing flow of traffic would allow. After much effort to get across by Jack, and much effort to CALM THE FUCK DOWN by Mark, finally, Jack and Mark were face to face in a room that was becoming distinctly emptier by the second.

Mark was trying very hard, by this point, to not spill all of his increasingly embarrassing thoughts to the Irishman infront of him. Jack could tell, after a few moments, that something was up. He wasn't quite sure what, but there was a certain tension, a feeling of things being a little... off... that could be fairly easily sensed if one was paying attention. And Jack was.

Mark was moderately quick to pick up on the fact that he was being very abnormal and put his best effort in to attempt to figure out what "best friend Mark" would be doing in this situation. It was with ease that he picked out what he discerned would be the best way to smooth his awkwardness over. Jack was quicker.

"What, yeh get lost in me eyes?" spilled easily from Jack's mouth as a well planned joke from a long structured line of emotional defense.

Mark, quick to fall back into his traditional character when with Jack, immediately forgot his awkwardness as long-existing habit caused him to reply back in a surprisingly calm manner. He chuckled lightly before smoothly and evenly responding back in a lightly teasing fashion.

"I don't know, you of all people should know me better than that. Tsk.  Tsk. What **would** the shippers say, Jackaboy?"

Jack grinned slightly.  _There's the Mark I know and love._

The conversation was comfortable and gently flirting as habit quickly took over leaving their sacred dynamic almost entirely untouched. Almost. 

Almost as Mark had goofed up a little a few times and almost referred to Jack by one of many pet names reserved solely for significant others.

He had called him "babe" a few times, but that was so normal to their dynamic that any extra meaning behind it on Mark's part was insignificant. Jack would never have to know the extra fluttering Mark felt when he had let it and variants of it slip out here and there on their car ride back to Mark's (and now Jack's, too) house.  At least not for now.

Jack and Mark _were_ to spend much more time around each other than was previously the norm, so there would be oh-so-many chances for one of them to fudge things up. 

But such thoughts were, luckily for the both of them, out of sight and out of mind as they began to settle into conversations of which video games they should play upon arrival at their now shared home.


End file.
